Dexter in Denial
by Social Escort
Summary: Post 5.12 The Big One. A bit of an alternate ending, leaving things open ended. Dexter will do anything to stop her from leaving.


**A/N: I own absolutely nothing, except a very strange imagination. If Dexter was mine, Lumen may never leave. Anyway, that's irrelevant. First Dexter fic, by the way. This is based ENTIRELY on a dream I had after I saw the finale, and I thought it might be worth writing.**

Dexter could feel the broken plates pressing against his pants, trying to tear at his flesh, but he ignored it.

Harry Morgan, Brian Moser, Lila Tournay, Miguel Prado, Arthur Mitchell, none of them could accept him for what he truly was and make things work. Harry had seen the monster he had created in action and took his own life. Brian tried to kill Debra. Lila was dangerously bat-shit crazy. Miguel refused to honor the Code. Arthur ruled his family by fear and abuse, murdered Rita. And now, Lumen Pierce. Someone who was just as broken as he was, if only in her own way, like Rita. Someone who not only honored, but respected the Code. Someone who killed alongside him, if only to satiate her own Darkness. Someone he could fully trust with every part of him. He had been so caught up in their little project that he hadn't even considered this possibility, hadn't considered that once Jordan Chase was dead that her Darkness would actually be gone. He'd always assumed that once she got a taste of taking a life, it would develop into a need like his.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Did he love her? No, probably not. But their connection had been so primal that it had completely replaced love as a possible emotion. It was deeper than anything he had with anyone else where his Dark Passenger was concerned. And now, like all the others had done in one way or another, she was leaving him, too. He didn't blame her for it, though, not one bit. Maybe he was fooling himself, thinking that he could share that part of his life with someone else. But out of everyone so far, Lumen was the most promising.

"I'm sorry." He didn't even know he had spoken until the words came out, an octave above a whisper. Lumen scooted closer to him, laying her hand on his forearm.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, not to me. You saved my life more than once. You're the reason that I might be able to salvage some part of the old me and move on."

"That's why I'm sorry."

She hadn't thought of it that way before. The things he didn't say were as clear as the things he did say. The look on his face, whatever it was, was a real emotion, not a facade. He's sorry that their time together was so brief, that he didn't drag out the kills. If Jordan Chase had went to Sarasota, they would've spent more time together. She probably would have went on other kills with him, if only to pass the time until they got another shot at Chase. By wanting to help her so badly, he'd effectively drove her away that much quicker.

"There's this messed up part of me that's glad about what happened. Or at least how it happened. Meeting you was the first thing I felt sure about since I ran away. Before Boyd and Jordan and the others, I was just someone running away from a life I didn't want. And then you found me, and little things started to make sense again. A part of me wishes this would have lasted longer, too, Dexter." She paused and rested her head against his. "But wishing isn't enough."

"Stay the night," he blurted. "The least I can do is give you a proper sendoff. I'll cook something. We can talk. Or not talk." He had no idea where the idea had come from. It gave him no warning before it came out.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Prolonging it, I mean."

"Oh. Yeah, you're right," he said, unsure of what this feeling of emptiness meant.

"But I'll stay. Maybe now that this is off my chest, I can get some sleep. First thing in the morning, though, I have to go. If not, I don't know if I'll be able to."

"After breakfast, right?" She looked at him, gave him a small smile, and nudged him with her elbow.

"We'll see. Now go, you don't want to be late for Harrison's party."

"You're not coming." The way he said it, as a statement rather than a question, made her close her eyes and regain her composure.

"No, I really shouldn't. Not since I'm leaving anyway." She stood up and pulled him to his feet. "It's fine, really. Go." She smiled at him, trying to make him understand that it really was okay. She knew that deep down, one of her reasons for skipping the party was the way Astor looked at her, like she was trying to replace her mother. She would never do that, but she still knew that if she showed up at the party, things would be silently awkward.

"I'll try to hurry."

"Dexter, take your time. I'll be here when you get back. Promise." That seemed like enough to reassure him that she wasn't planning on bailing as soon as he left. He put the orange juice into the fridge and froze, like he was unsure about how to leave. In an attempt to help him out, she put her hand on his chest and smiled up at him. He returned it, quickly, and then he was gone.

She knew she wasn't staying because she wanted sleep. That wasn't the main reason, anyway. Somewhere inside of her, she wanted to be able to change her mind, to convince herself that she could stay. She wanted to forge some kind of life in Miami, be a part of Dexter's life in some way. The kids, too, if they ever decided they wanted that. She knew it was selfish on her part, but she couldn't help the pangs of joy when he asked her to stay. God, she wanted to stay, and not just for the night.

"You can't," she told herself, taking a series of deep breaths, trying to regain her common sense.

She grabbed the broom and swept the broken plates into the dust pan, silently ridiculing herself for how she felt when she looked at the shattered pieces. It was a sign of Dexter's raw emotion, not wanting her to leave. When he threw the plates, it hadn't even startled her. It made her heart ache in a way that was completely alien from love. It was like a longing that she wanted to fulfill even though she knew she needed to get away. Without her own Darkness, she didn't belong here, no matter how much she wanted to.

"I'm upset because I don't want to kill anyone else," she admonished, shaking her head at the thought. Maybe her experiences had fucked her up more than she originally thought. Wanting to kill people was bad enough; but being upset because the desire was gone was even worse.

* * *

By the time she heard Dexter's key in the lock, she had already changed into pajama bottoms and a tank top, desperate to enjoy all the comfort of the apartment while she still could.

"Hey, you're still here," he said, his voice laced with a twinge of surprise.

"Of course I am." She held his gaze, vaguely hurt that he thought she would have left while he was gone.

"No, I just thought I might have been delusional, imagining the conversation. I'm glad." He _was_ glad.

"Nice cover-up," she joked, sliding farther to the corner of the couch, subtly coaxing him to take a seat.

"But I brought you cake." A goofy grin, a real grin, crept onto his face as he sat down, showing her the plate with saran wrap over it. She briefly wondered if the saran wrap came from the same roll as one of his kills but quickly dismissed the thought. Morbid much?

"How was the party?" she asked, getting up to grab two forks.

"Well, Cody skinned his knee, and Harrison threw up on Sonya."

"So it was pretty normal."

"Astor said she loved me. Hugged me, even."

"Okay, scratch that. It was the Twilight Zone." Dexter laughed with her.

"It was so... different."

"That's a good thing, Dexter. She's opening up. For a twelve year old who's been through what she has, that's incredible."

"She asked about you, where you were. If I helped you. The other day, she asked me to tell her if you were my girlfriend."

"What'd you say?" She seemed genuinely interested now.

"I told her the truth. But I told her that you were going through a really rough time, and that I was trying to help you. I guess it cleared up the misconceptions. You really should have came to the party. Cody would have loved you." He clenched his teeth after he said 'love', unsure if it was a bad choice of words.

"We should have talked about this around the time you broke two plates." She glanced at him and saw a rigid look on his face. "Joking," she said, giving him a genuine smile.

"We could drive over to the motel," he said. "They should still be up. You can talk to them."

"Please... Stop trying so hard. Besides, there's no reason to get them riled up this late. Maybe they'll come by in the morning before I leave."

"Yeah," Dexter smiled. "Maybe." There was a twinkle in his eye that made her believe he had a hidden agenda.

* * *

A couple of hours later the cake had been eaten, the dishes had been done, and they were in bed.

Their last night.

They were in the spooning position, yet their bodies weren't touching. For Dexter, he knew that if it went that far, he'd stop at nothing to get her to stay. So instead he laid there, watching her, noticing the occasional misstep of her breath, letting him know she was still awake. After a few minutes of noticing she hadn't fallen asleep, something came over him and he knew this was his last chance if he wanted her to stay. Without warning, without reason, he reached over and grabbed the hem of her tank top, slowly pulling it off. Thankfully, she understood what he was doing and lifted her torso a little, even though she didn't know where this was going. Sex, maybe. Their last stand.

He tossed the shirt off the side of the bed and pulled the sheet down, uncovering her body inch by inch until he got to her waist. He slid just a little bit closer to her, watching her breathing speed up ever so slightly. He eased his hand out, laid it gingerly on her hip, and closed his grip just enough to keep his hand in place.

"I don't want to sleep." Finally, he spoke. "If I fall asleep, the next thing I know I'll be awake, and you'll be leaving. I... I don't know."

"You want to take advantage of every minute that we have left," she clarified for him. She squeezed his hand and moved it to her stomach, letting out a sigh that made everything seem okay.

The last thing Dexter remembered from that night was tracing his fingertips across the scars on her back, knowing that he would kill to keep anyone from hurting her again.

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'm still not sure if this should end here, or if I should make Lumen stay and continue my own Season 6. Any and all thoughts are welcome. **


End file.
